


The Quest

by trollmela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angel Dean Winchester, Angel Sam Winchester, Dating, M/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5859481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollmela/pseuds/trollmela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling lonely, Sam decides that it’s time to start looking for a mate. The cupid’s dating pool is his last resort, but for a while it seems that not even they can help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quest

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story in 2012 as a birthday gift for the prompt: Sam is an angel and in need of a dating service to find him an appropriate mate.

It was sickening. The way his big, bad brother turned into a soft-spoken cherub, wings fluttering gently with excitement and pleasure. Occasionally they would touch his mate’s in a loving caress, barely noticeable but definitely there.

No, sickening was not quite the word. Depressing was more appropriate. The truth, however, was that the sight invoked his jealousy, and that thought scared Sam like nothing else. Angels didn’t _get_ jealous, or if they did, then it was an indicator that they were about to fall.

Sam didn’t want to fall. He wanted a _mate_. His brother had found his mate in Castiel. And today was their day; they had bonded and were now celebrating with all brothers and sisters that had wanted to come. Everyone was happy for the new couple and wished them joy. Everyone was happy; except Sam, so it seemed.

Morose, Sam left the dining hall and found himself a quiet spot where he could look out and down towards earth. He wondered where his own mate was hiding, or whether he was destined to stay alone forever.

“Sam? Sammy!” It was Dean, of course. He must have become worried when he didn’t see Sam return. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just getting some fresh air,” Sam claimed. He was. It simply wasn’t the only reason. His wings, of course, showed his somber mood all too clearly. His feathers were drooping and as much as Sam tried to puff them up and stand proudly, they simply wouldn’t move from their desolate state.

“Why are you unhappy?” Dean might have been blind for a while to his brother’s emotions due to his own newfound love, but he certainly noticed now.

If Sam had ever wished that angels could lie, then never more so than now.

Dean moved into Sam’s personal space and put a hand on his brother’s right shoulder.

“I want what you have,” the younger angel burst out. “I want a mate like you do, like everyone, but me!”

Dean was clearly taken aback but he did understand Sam. He had never admitted it, but he had been lonely before meeting Castiel. Now he had his mate, and Sam had no one. Not even Dean had spent much time with him recently, too busy courting his slightly obtuse mate.

Dean sighed. “Maybe you should try the cupids,” he suggested tentatively.

Sam pulled a face. Angels who asked cupids for help in finding a mate were the truly desperate ones. And Sam was _definitely_ not that desperate.

Dean could practically read the answer off his face.

“Just think about it,” he sighed again.

* * *

Sam had vowed to himself that he wouldn’t do it. But it wasn’t long after his conversation with Dean on the night of his brother’s bonding that Sam found himself calling a cupid and asking for help.

“Sure,” the cupid said cheerfully, as if his request wasn’t anything unusual. “Just fill this out.” He handed Sam a large scroll, which unfolded into a long roll of paper full of questions to fill in.

“Once you’ve signed it, it goes right into our pool and we’ll arrange for meetings with prospective mates. So think carefully before you sign.” The cupid giggled. “Do you need any help filling out the form?”

“Erm, no, I don’t think so,” Sam replied.

It was long, but seemed straight forward enough. Although - he glanced behind himself – wing span? He had never bothered measuring it, but apparently, it was important.

“All right.” The cupid smiled at him. “Just let me know if you do.”

Then he left.

For lack of a table, Sam crouched down onto the ground and leant over the dozens of questions: age, job, experience, what he was looking for in a mate and all kinds of other details. And here Sam had always thought that bureaucracy had been invented in hell.

 

The first meeting was an absolute disaster. His ‘prospective mate’ was Zachariah, and Sam and seen him around. He thought that he was a superior of Castiel. Sam simply hadn’t known exactly how smarmy the other angel was. If all the seraphim wanted was a pretty sidekick, Sam was definitely not it!

The second was better in that Anael was a very nice angel to be around. She wasn’t his mate – he could tell that right away, and so could she – but at least she was nice and Sam thought that they might even stay friends.

The third, fourth, fifth and sixth meeting were best forgotten.

“There’s no one for me out there, is there?” Sam commented desolately to his brother.

“That’s not true,” Dean denied, awkwardly patting his shoulder. “You just need to… keep looking.”

“I’ve already looked all over heaven! I’ve subjected to answering 127 questions about myself, I’ve met with six ‘prospective mates’, most of which were horrible and I’m still not any closer to finding a mate! I thought finding love was what cupids do all the time!”

“Maybe your mate hasn’t been created yet. Or they’re stationed on earth.”

Sam visibly brightened. “You’re right! Angels stationed on earth are taken out of the pool!”

“There you go then. You just need to be patient.”

Or go to earth himself, Sam pondered. The longer he thought about it, the better the idea seemed.

Requesting some time off took forever and filling out two forms – in duplicate each. Finally, he had managed to get five years' earth time off. It wasn’t much, but all his superiors were willing to grant him. Dean didn’t even try to convince him to stay.

Sam found a vessel in a young lawyer and immediately started his search. To an angel, other angels left traces of their presence and Sam followed as many of them as he could. From Sydney to Stockholm, Alexandria to Aberdeen, Hong Kong to Honolulu, Toronto to Taipei, Lima to Los Angeles…

To an angel, earth wasn’t very big, but it was certainly inhabited by a lot of people. And that included a lot of angels: many of them were tasked with protecting a person, place or artifact. Others were watching demon activity.

Sam spoke to all of them. And they were happy to meet another angel, one who could tell them all the best news and gossip first-hand instead of only hearing about it via the heavenly choir (yes, angels made even gossip and scandals into song. The best recent example being when Balthazar had been caught fooling around in the healing wards by the archangel Raphael some 53 earth years ago. It was a very popular hymn).

But four years into his search he still hadn’t found his mate. The fifth year he spent alternately frantic and desperate, but it proved to be no more fruitful than the four previous years.

Despondent, Sam returned to heaven and went personally to tell the cupids to put him back in the pool. He wasn’t the only visitor. Sam didn’t know the other seraphim who was, strangely enough, in a vessel, as if only on a short break from earth. He scrutinized Sam from head to toe and gave him an easy smile. Unfortunately, Sam was too tired to smile back.

“Would you put my profile back in the pool?” He asked a cupid wearily.

“Of course,” the cupid chirped. Sam was pretty sure that he wasn’t imagining the pitying look.

“Looking for someone?” The other angel asked, strolling over to him.

“Yeah,” Sam replied, finally giving the angel a closer look. He couldn’t tell much with him inside a vessel, a small, stocky human who looked to be almost the polar opposite of the vessel Sam had been in on earth.

“Well, something tells me you’re about to get lucky.”

Sam was confused. How could the seraphim tell? Unless… He reached out tentatively.

Just then, another angel arrived. Sam hadn’t seen him often, but he knew immediately who it was: Raphael, one of the archangels.

“Brother,” the archangel began, addressing the angel in the vessel. He seemed impatient and was ignoring everyone else. “We’re waiting for you.”

“Sure, Raphi, don’t get your panties in a twist,” the other angel replied. He winked at Sam. “I’ll see you around.”

Then he and Raphael flew away.

Nearly breathless with shock, horror, and a chance destroyed before he had even had the opportunity to take it, Sam turned to the cupid:

“Who was that?”

This time the pitying look was unmistakable. “That was the archangel Gabriel.”

“Oh.”

He felt sick.

* * *

 

His next date Sam decided to call off before even going. He simply didn’t feel like it. Instead, his brother – and by extension Castiel – got to listen to him pour out his unhappiness.

“I didn’t touch him, but I swear, if I had, it would have been perfect.”

Castiel shook his head. “He’s an archangel. He’s above your station.”

Sam only sighed. As if he didn’t know that already.

 

Two days later, a message from the cupids reached him. They were inviting him to a larger event, something many angels looking for mates would attend. Apparently, each angel would speak with another for a specific amount of time before turning to the next angel until everyone had spoken to each other in person. It certainly sounded like it wouldn’t take too much time, which was why the cupids praised it as ideal for “seraphims pressed for time”.

And that was how he found himself sitting in a large hall, switching seats regularly and saying the same thing all over again:

“I’m Sam, son of John, and part of the Winchester garrison. I’m looking for something permanent.”

He even came across Balthazar, the same as the one in the hymn, and he found himself chuckling because despite the fact that the other angel’s jokes were bad, Sam found them amusing, and it felt good to laugh.

“We should meet outside of this,” Balthazar said shortly before the gong signaled the end of their time.

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “We should.”

He was not exactly giddy on his way back home, but things did look a bit more positive. He didn’t think it was love at first sight and wasn’t that how it should have been? Weren’t you supposed to look at an angel and immediately, instinctively _know_ that they were the right one? Balthazar wasn’t that kind of angel for him, but Sam was willing to try. That had to be enough.

The next day, Sam was transferred. He received orders to report to a garrison on earth, and he wondered whether he had done something wrong. There had been no warning, no hint, no nothing. He had only a couple of hours before his presence on earth was required, and it was barely enough to pack his things and send a message to Balthazar. They didn’t even get the chance to talk.

Sam took the lawyer as his vessel again and sought out the location he had been given. To his surprise, he found himself alone. He had thought that he would immediately be introduced to the garrison, but instead, he seemed to be the only angel in the area. Someone cleared his throat and he swung around. It was Gabriel.

“You’re disguising yourself,” Sam noted, biting his lip when he realized that this was really no way to greet an archangel. “I’m sor-“

“You’re right,” Gabriel replied. “I prefer to remain unnoticed. Some creatures here know me as a pagan god. It’s a cover I’ve become fond of and would like to keep. Thank you for coming, Sam.”

“I received an order,” Sam replied. Really, what else should he have done?

Gabriel gave a small shrug as if that didn’t matter. Sam wondered whether Archangels even _got_ orders. From God, of course, but who else?

“Well, I had hoped that this conversation would involve a bit more action on your part.”

“I’m- I’m sorry?”

“It’s okay.” The archangel grinned at him. “I know how to make people talk.”

“I’m sorry, but where is the rest of the garrison?”

“Oh, actually, there isn’t a garrison. At least not here. I had the order sent to you so we could get some undisturbed time together.”

Sam gaped. Gabriel gave him a sharp look.

“You do know that we’re mates, right?”

“I… I…” Sam had never in his entire existence felt so much like a deer caught in the headlights.

Instead of waiting for the flustered angel to get a hold of himself, Gabriel reached out with his grace, revealing his wings as he did so. If Sam hadn’t been in love before, he certainly was now. They were glorious. He should really have reached out earlier when they met. Thankfully, it wasn’t too late yet. Gabriel wrapped a pair of his wings around him and they may have been smaller than Sam’s, but the feathers were softer. If Sam could help it, he’d never leave that embrace.

But then, Castiel’s words came to him and like a mantra, Sam repeated to himself:

‘I shouldn’t be doing this, I shouldn’t be doing this.’

“Don’t worry,” the archangel said. “We’ll spend a couple of decades on earth together and by the time they realize in heaven that I faked your orders, not even Michael will be able to get between us with a crowbar.”

Sam chuckled and sent a small prayer of thanks for bureaucracy.


End file.
